


The Last Walt and Jess Mystery - A Between Two Shores Fanfiction

by doughertyboy69 (orphan_account)



Category: Between Two Shores - Dougherty
Genre: Crime Solving, F/M, Lesbians, Mystery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/doughertyboy69
Summary: This book made me actively suicidal when I read it and so this is my coping mechanism. I'd say it's better than self-harm, but reading this book was self-harm.I really tried to capture the author's iconic tropes and style.
Relationships: Walt/Jess
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Last Walt and Jess Mystery - A Between Two Shores Fanfiction

I drove my powder blue pickup truck down the gravel road, the sun beating down on me through the windshield. I pulled my clip on sunglasses out of the glove compartment and clipped them onto my glasses, my world now shrouded in shadows like the ones that covered my past. I had led a rough life but now I had the girl of my dreams, with the most perfect ass on this side of the Chesapeake, like two perfect grapefruits she’d let me slap like bongos. I imagined her waiting for me at home and smiled to myself. Jess was like the sun; in my eyes and hot. She’d be waiting for me with dinner, I thought, and her daughter, named Amy, I think, was now living with the neighbor full time because I was simply too dangerous to be around. My shadowed past would always be trying to catch up with me, but I’d keep fighting it, just like I’d fought the Russian Mob, the Biker Gangs, and the Crooked Cops. 

I pulled into the gas station parking lot and went inside. I went immediately to the beer cooler and grabbed a six pack. The cashier at the counter was wearing a tight-fitting leather jacket and fishnet stockings that seemed to go on for miles, like those big nets used to catch fish. When the cashier rang me up, she said to me. “Hi, my name’s Rhondonica. I’m a lesbian.” This town is full of diverse people and that is how they introduce themselves. 

“Hi Rhondonica,” I said politely, but stoically, because I am enigmatic. 

“Did you used to be a cop?” She asked.

“Yes.” I said.

“Why did you stop being a cop? Was there a tragic event in your shadowy past?” She asked because this is the first thing people ask me about. 

“Nothing special,” I said, brushing it off stoically and shadowy-like. Just then, an old man wearing a plaid shirt and cargo shorts with rubber boots and a hat that said “Bill’s Department Store,” and was eating an ice cream cone clutched at his chest, fell over, and died. 

“Oh my god!” Rhondonica screamed, “He had a heart attack!” I pulled out my gun to protect and comfort her, like every other victimized woman in Virginia. Virginia, I thought, named after virgins. What a beautiful name for a beautiful place… too bad so many ugly things had to happen here.

“No,” I said, examining the scene. “When I was walking into the store, I noticed he had a fishing pole in the back of his car. It’s not trout season right now. The Crooked Russian Biker Gang that controls the local fish economy must have assassinated him.” Apparently the poison given to him wasn’t working very quickly, because he was still gasping for air and telling me to “call an ambulance.” I put him out of his misery. I’d seen so much tragedy, what was one more?  
I got back into my trusty powder blue pick up truck and continued driving down the road and thinking about Jess and her great ass. I smiled to myself again and flipped down my clip on sunglasses. Suddenly, my truck made a noise like a dog eating gravel and stopped in the middle of the road. I got out to see what was wrong because I am good at car repair as well as anything else that is useful. Then clouds of dust showed up on the horizon and the sound of motorcycles grew louder and I knew: it was the Crooked Russian Biker Gang. I went to put on my sunglasses but I was already wearing them and I grabbed my gun. I’d defeated them all once before and I could do it again. 

“Now I don’t want any trouble,” I said firmly as they turned off their motorcycles. I made sure they saw the blaster in my hand. Suddenly, one of them came up from behind me but I dispatched him with my expert reflexes. But then another one hit me with a crow bar, and another, and another and another. They all laughed at me as I marinated in a puddle of blood and tears and gravel seasonings as I sobbed and sobbed until the sun went down. 

I was losing consciousness when I felt my trusty Nokia ring in my pocket and I picked it up. 

“Walt?” A voice said. A familiar voice. A voice with the greatest ass on this side of the Chesapeake… no, the universe. It was Jess.

“Hey Jess” I said stoically, as if I was not bleeding out.

“Walt, I’m a lesbian. Goodbye.” She hung up and I continued to sob into the dirt and my blood puddle. 

“Good night sweet prince,” I said to myself.


End file.
